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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26901601">The Tittering Abyss</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Restitutor_Orbis/pseuds/Restitutor_Orbis'>Restitutor_Orbis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, I have depression and feels, Leliana has depression, Let the Inquisitor hug and kiss Leliana BioWare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:06:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26901601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Restitutor_Orbis/pseuds/Restitutor_Orbis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Leliana feels guilty over her failures at Haven. The Inquisitor disagrees.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Inquisitor/Leliana (Dragon Age), Leliana &amp; Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age), Leliana/Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Tittering Abyss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my gift for International Lesbian Day! It was meant to be fluffy, but of course my brain refused such a thing! Hope you all enjoy! Leave a comment if you did! It would be very much appreciated!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunlight flowed pale, ghostly, as beams shivered across the skies, flushing dark stone into walls of gray and helms of snow shimmered silver. Yet, the gray seemed washed, faded, and the silver flitted and wavering. Drifts of snow carried by the mountain winds wove patterns of twirls, though a mist seemed to swallow them away, as if only abyss waited all the strokes of life’s painting. There was darkness at the end, only that and nothing more. </p><p>“Can we afforded such sentimentality? What if Corypheus -” The words held a bite that Leliana did not truly mean, but her heart seemed hallow, and her words dry air that lost it noise soon as they left her lips. The mist grew hazy, the light dimmer, and Leliana had to blink as she felt warmth tremble her cheeks. She would not cry. She would do that later. She would not mourn, not yet. In her own time, away from other eyes, though she felt shadows watch her, echoes of cries which filled her ears constantly; children’s cries, mother’s and father’s wails...She heard it, and she could not let it go. She would not forgot those she had failed to save...who she sent to their deaths. </p><p>Alexandra’s voice was soft when it spoke, but cut through like spring air from the shrill, malice-filled laughter of winter; light burning away darkness and melting shadows from the air. For a moment, the abyss before her shivered, recoiling from that light sprung from that Marcher-accented voice. For just a moment, her heart had felt something, a kindle of warmth that Leliana was afraid to grasp, knowing she was unworthy of it. “We are better than Corypheus. <em>You</em> are better than Corypheus.”</p><p>The sadness within her voice stroke something inside Leliana, a similar yearning to the kindling fire brought by the softness of Alexandra’s voice. She turned, and faced the newly-named Inquisitor.</p><p>When she had came to visit her, Leliana disliked how her breath caught in her throat, found her knees wobbly, and her stomach churning into flips. Light of torches, amber-hued, left a shimmered sheen over those dark-black locks, a crown of light seemly wrought into a veil. The gold within her green eyes spiraled more than speared, a never-ending dance of fiery tendrils in a sea of emerald. Even her smile still there, something that Leliana found herself far too comforted by; though it was not the sly confidence that brimmed around her, but seemingly a mere front, an illusion which told a thousand words. The destruction left a mark even on the untouchable Herald of Andraste. More guilt filled Leliana, and the abyss thicken, nearing around her mind like a storm. There was only Alexandra, a spot of light shimmered gold, winking back bleakness. Leliana resisted the desire to hold her hand, to help her lean away from the staff. Beneath her black coat embroiled with vines of gold, black waistcoat, and golden slash, there was a wound that had not truly been fully healed at her side. Another burden she would be forced to carry, alongside the Mark. But she was alive, unlike Justinia, unlike the Warden, unlike Haven. <em>I failed them all. Marjolaine was right. I am a foolish girl. <br/></em></p><p>Leliana crossed her arms, the urge to hold her abating with it, to feel something more than the gaping hollowness that threatened to take her to the abyss. Once there, Leliana would never be able to see light again, she knew.  “If I had allowed the scouts go out, they could had warn against the attack, Inquisitor. If I had went out with them...” <em>Then what?</em> A voice snarled at her. <em>Then what would you do? </em>She could had saved Haven, maybe at the cost of her life, but she would had been able to save them. Leliana knew she could. </p><p>Something in Alexandra’s eyes flash, dangerous and burning. “You would be dead, alongside those at Haven that <em>I </em>had let died.” She pushed herself off her staff, though it seemed more effort than she would ever admit. But she planted herself firm, stood straight as a lance, a leader in command, though Leliana saw the concern. <em>A mistake. </em>But Alexandra continued, unopposed. A trait that Leliana truly did admire about Alexandra, and loathed at the same time. “We would have lost you.” Pain flashed with Alexandra’s eyes, and she bent low, pressing her forehead against the staff. “I could had lost you.” Her voice was no louder than a whisper...words that Leliana was not meant to hear; but within the silence of the Rookery, they rang like pattering raindrops. </p><p>The warmth lingering low rushed through her body like a gushing river pushing across a broken dam; and she was already at Alexandra’s side, before she even knew her feet had carried her there, a hand coaxed gently against the wound, helping her rise. Faintly, she realized that she could easily nuzzle her face into Alexandra’s neck. She smelt faintly of vanilla, and something more that she could not place. And she was warm, too. <em>Enough of that, damn you.</em></p><p>“Inquisitor, you must rest,” said Leliana, gently. A part of her did not wish to let go. The Inquisitor was alive. The Maker gave her that, at least; gave her a women that she knew she should or could not love. <em>Why, Maker? Why? Why her...why not Justinia...why not my Warden</em>? She held on longer, onto that warmth, onto that scent of vanilla that burned away pillars of smoke and fire and blood. And she stepped back, the warmth fleeing away, the shroud of darkness rolling in about her. “Go on.”</p><p>Alexandra stared at her, droplets of sweat streaking down her temples. For once, she did not argue, though Alexandra sought to stand straight, with a little sucess. “Don’t blame yourself for my failures, Leliana. <em>Please</em>. Corypheus...he adores the apathy. He wants you to feel ashamed of our supposed weakness. Him and his followers, they wish to take away that sentimentality, to make us less than human.” Her eyes grew dark. “He wants to make us like him.” </p><p><em>Oh, you sweet girl</em>. Leliana nodded, though she could not feign the hesitancy, not when Alexandra’s gaze searched and searched, fire boring into her. <em>Or am I the foolish one?</em> “Thank you, Inquisitor.” Leliana was glad she was able to keep it steady. “I will remember that.” How could a woman hold such ideas of hope, after everything. Once, a girl Leliana knew would had that answer, but she was dead, or as close to it as possible. <em>I need to protect that, at least. I can do as much as that, I’m sure.</em> </p><p>Suddenly, an arm was swung around her neck, and Leliana’s face was pressed against silk, warmth flooding her once more. “Thank you,” she heard Alexandra murmur in her hair, a voice. Every instinct within her body tensed, laxed, and grew limp. Those words was soft and innocent as a child, yet Leliana clung to it, as much as she clung to the warmth flowing through her. Alexandra’s warmth, Alexandra’s life. The thought pushed away the abyss hard. Leliana did not want to let go. She did not want to return to the verge of darkness that always threatened to take her. But she knew she had to, for Alexandra’s sake, for the Inquisition’s. For everything thing left she held dear, she would have to dance on that thin, trembling line. </p><p>Though, for now, she took in that warmth, and did not let go. <em>I will promise not to blame myself, Alexandra,</em> she thought to herself. <em>But I can not promise that I will stop tittering on the edges. We must do our parts, even if the price is far too high. </em></p>
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